


Chained

by ojeriza



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ojeriza/pseuds/ojeriza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want your heart in my hands, brother. Nothing else will satisfy.”</p><p>It's a never-ending cycle. Loki will inevitably hurt Thor, and feel sorry later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chained

**Author's Note:**

> For [Commoventi](http://commoventi.tumblr.com/) and [Tricksy](http://tricksy.tumblr.com/), darling loves. ♡

The brush is heavy between his fingers, and Loki feels exhausted. The weight upon his shoulders is gone now, leaving him in a sea of calmness and mute pleasure, even though his back aches and his wrists hurt, a shot of piercing pain spiking through his nerves.

Loki slowly closes his hand into a fist and grimaces, hissing through his teeth. His fingers feel rusty and every joint feels broken, misused, as though he had been digging snow with bare hands. He looks up at the canvas and it seems to come alive, to whisper in his ears, to roam his body with its brushstrokes.

Thor’s voice is smooth as silk and warm when he says, “It’s beautiful, brother.”

It’s a painting of a rusted sailing ship in the middle of the sea. It’s broken, hollowed and half immersed in water, about to sink. The sea isn’t tempestuous, but it isn’t calm either. It captures the beginning of a storm, where the waves turn more furious, but they still lack their full strength. The wind is there for anyone to see, in the way the clouds seem to dance across the dark sky, in the way they seem to reach for the observer.

Where the sea ends and the sky begins is unseeable. The dark blue, gray and charcoal turn into a sky that explodes in constellations and sparse clouds, a single black hole, a photonegative sun, absorbing the color and everything in its way. Ending anything around, anything within reach.

“It’s…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what it is.

He hears footsteps and soon there is a shadow above him; Loki feels comfort in it, feels his body relaxing further.

Thor crouches and places a heavy hand on Loki’s shoulder, thumb just below his collarbone.

“You—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, remains quiet, and Loki looks up, sees his brother staring at his neck.

The memory flashes across his eyes and Loki breathes in audibly, hand coming up to his throat, trying to hide the skin as he averts blue eyes.

“Leave me alone,” Loki snarls, not so sharply, but he regrets his tone all the same nevertheless. Looking down at the floor, he adds, “Please.”

He doesn’t want Thor to see. It’s bad enough that he knows, knows what’s inside him, the dormant monster, the feeling always present in his guts, trying to claw its way up, trying to overcome him, to eat him alive until there is no Loki anymore, only a creature born out of jealousy and insecurity, low self-esteem and self-hatred.

He wants the scar to disappear, for Thor to stop noticing the marred skin with a sad curl in his lips and dull eyes. Loki can’t help looking at it in the mirror; it comforts him, because in his mind what lies behind that scar is past now and will never come back. It can’t hurt him anymore, or again. It’s a form of closure that brings him solace.

Neither can he help gliding the brush with red paint across his throat and reveling in the sensation. If he closes his eyes and forgets about the world, Loki can pretend it’s his own blood dripping down his chest. It’s not nearly as warm, it’s cold and thick, but soothing still. A comfort he will never have again.

Thor cups his cheek, but Loki turns away. He doesn’t want to look at his brother, doesn’t want to see what lies behind his eyes. He is so easily read, almost an open book, but only for Loki, and Loki can’t afford to see the disappointment buried deep in his soul, its roots creeping out of the earth.

“Loki,” Thor says. His fingers, heavy and warm, make Loki look up at him.

He stares at Thor. Feels vulnerable, as though his very soul is laid bare for his brother. All dark, marred corners, all thoughts he’s tried to hide, his core. His rotten psyche. He feels his cheeks warm and can’t help turning his face aside.

He wants to get up and run, run away from the only thing that keeps him sane but is undoubtedly his doom. He wants to finally stop thinking, stop caring, stop having someone to live for, but he knows it’s fruitless, because he can’t leave his brother now. He will never be able to. Thor is as much part of his life as the breath he draws in.

Against Loki’s temple, he mutters, “We’ll work it out.”

He knows how his brother is, how caring he’s capable of being. How he’ll look at Loki and sense when he’s at his lowest, worry until he can’t help himself anymore. Loki will take pity on him, on his brother’s despondent eyes, the downcast curl of his mouth, the dullness that’ll surround him. He’ll lower the walls and let Thor in, let his brother ask him, promise him, love him.

And Loki will pretend to believe.

  


* * *

  


The moon is high in the sky, its halo so bright it hurts to stare at it for too long.

“It’s a Supermoon,” Loki says, looking down at him.

His brother is sitting on the balcony rail with a bottle of wine in his hand, sipping the contents at a leisurely pace.

“What?”

“The moon. It’s at its Perigee. Brighter and bigger. Hurts the eyes.”

He stares at the satellite for a full minute. The night is bright and without stars or clouds, the canopies clear even in the dark.

It feels like a déjà vu.

In one moment, Loki is there, pale skin glowing under the moonlight, thin, rosy lips, tinged with wine, naked shoulders, bony arms. He looks the epitome of beauty and calmness, a cold indifference. Hooded eyes and smooth, slurred voice.

Then, Thor turns. Or maybe, he blinks, he glances away, he does _something_. And it takes this half-second, this immeasurable, uncertain point in the universe for Loki to disappear. He leaves no trace behind, nothing that can prove he was once there. Only an uncertainty that is bound to become poison to Thor’s mind.

And so he doesn’t take his eyes from Loki. He doesn’t blink.

Thor raises his hand carefully and holds his brother’s. “Let’s go inside.”

“No.” And the way Loki’s eyes shine gives Thor a hint that he _knows_. “Say you love me.”

“I love you.” And he tightens his hold around pale fingers.

“It’s not enough,” Loki says. “Not nearly.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t, Thor. Not the way I want you to.”

It hurts to have his brother doubt his love. Loving Loki is like breathing. Natural. Sometimes it hurts, his lungs, his chest, but it’s impossible to stop.

“It’s my fault you don’t see it, but I—”

“No,” he interrupts. “It’s mine. I want your heart in my hands, brother. Nothing else will satisfy.”

  


* * *

  


When Loki slides down the last centimeters, he breathes a shaky sigh, incapable of holding it back. Thor feels massive and solid under him, slim waist and hips, bulky chest and large shoulders under his hands. He rakes his nails across the tanned expanse and focuses on his breathing, bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, but doing so enhances the feeling of having his brother inside him.

“Loki.”

The breathy quality of Thor’s voice uncurls something in his stomach, makes pleasure ignite his cells and his muscles cramp around his brother’s cock. He gasps, hands tightening on Loki’s thighs, back arching off the bed in need and desperation. It’s a small consolation for Loki to know he’s not the only one.

Then he moans, a breathy, low sigh, his head drooping down to Thor’s shoulder, and feels the shift inside. It leaves him breathless and keen, starved. Loki buries his nose in the crook of Thor’s neck and moves, pulling back until only the head is in.

He feels his brother’s hand roaming across the expanse of his back, settling on his hips and helping him move: a slow upstroke that makes Loki feel every single ridge, vein and undulation, then a downstroke met halfway with Thor’s thrust. It punches the air out of his lungs.

He’s gasping and moaning at Thor’s ear, mouthing his shoulder and the place under his jaw, and feels heat creep up his cheeks. He sits up, supports his weight with both hands on Thor’s muscled chest, feels the strong, erratic heartbeat, and starts moving in earnest.

It feels hot and wet and huge, pressing so deep inside him, leaving Loki with sobs and moans at the tip of his tongue. He feels weak and small, hates the way Thor make him feel and sound, debased and greedy, desperate.

His arms fail him, and the sensation is so strong, the pleasure so overwhelming that Loki can’t move anymore, can’t seek his release by himself. He collapses on Thor’s chest, breath rapid and harsh, and cries, “ _Thor,_ ” and soon his brother starts thrusting, so hard and fast it leaves Loki in a sea of white bliss, so bright it engulfs him, and he’s coming the next second, breathing a series of broken moans that he tries but fail to control.

He lets Thor fuck him until he comes. He groans Loki’s name, so raw and hoarse it makes his entire body warm.

Afterwards, when their breaths stabilize, Thor circles him with his arms and brings Loki to his side. They intertwine their limbs, and Loki rests his head on his brother’s chest. The sound of his heartbeat is enticing, it holds magic and benevolence and power. He breathes in his smell and falls asleep, the intimacy a warm embrace that envelops him.

  


* * *

  


At times, Thor will wake up with a muffled scream at the tip of his tongue. Mouth dry, tears in his eyes and a lump stuck at his throat. He’ll start crying, memories flashing across his mind, confusing dreams and reality. He won’t know what’s real and what isn’t. The tears won’t stop, Thor will try to muffle his sobs, his pleas of _No, please, no,_ but Loki will wake up nevertheless, startled and confused, until he realizes. Loki will hug him, comfort him, say, _I’m here, Thor, I’m with you,_ and they’ll both try to get back to sleep. But it’s bending steel with human hands.

Loki will soothe the pain, lull Thor to slumber, but the memories will still be there, behind his closed eyelids, their roots growing stronger inside his head. Blood gushing from a pale neck, issuing from thin lips. Scarlet staining pale skin, draining the color out of his face. Thor won’t stop crying, murmuring, sobbing, _Don’t leave me, don’t leave, please, brother, don’t,_ and Loki will tighten his arms around him, _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry._

The first ray of sunshine will crawl along through the window, bathing them in golden light and dust, morning air, fresh and cooling. They won’t need to open their eyes to a new day. They’ve been staring at each other throughout the night, limbs intertwining and hearts beating steadily against their ribs.

  


* * *

  


There’s a word stuck in his throat, but he won’t say it, won’t ask. It constricts his chest, leaves a burning trail down his stomach, churning.

Loki’s breath is slow and rhythmic when Thor raises his hand and delicately rests his fingers upon his brother’s neck. He can barely feel the pulse, but blames the bandages around his throat for that. He knows someday there will be scars, and doesn’t know what to think.

Loki blinks his eyes open, once, twice, looks confused, tries to open his mouth and speak, but ends up cringing, hands coming up to his neck. Thor sees the moment it dawns on him, a flash of hurt and fear in green eyes, then it’s all gone, replaced by a blank stare, detached.

He won’t ask, he won’t, he won’t say it, won’t blurt out the only constant line of doubt in his mind, he won’t―

The sob escapes his lips, a breathless, broken _Why_. Thor is startled to feel hot tears stream down his cheeks.

He receives only silence as an answer. Oppressive and unrelenting, it surrounds them and doesn’t let them breathe, make them struggle for air. Only white noise and the sound of the medical monitor, until Loki looks away and closes his eyes. It’s then that Thor notices his brother too is crying.

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my [tumblr](http://sisyphuus.tumblr.com/), where it's untitled and all 'cause that's how I roll, but you can find this one and my other ficlets there nevertheless.
> 
> And I had sworn I wouldn't post anything short here, but well, here we are, right? Right. Also, any feedback, positive critique, negative critique, they're all deeply appreciated.


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